I can see the wrinkles in the mirror,
even without my glasses.
What does that mean?
They are deep and permanent.
Youth has fled my appearance.
Yet, it has not left my heart.
The fact, of reality...
can not change my soul.
The creases next to my eyes... are from laughing.
My mother told me not to do that,
it would change my face forever.
She was right, and she was wrong.
I put my specs back on,
having washed the sleep from my eyes.
I can see better,
I do not look away.
The lines of time, they are still there,
deeper even than before.
That is okay,
I find I do not care... to stare.
I smile and remember, what is was to laugh.
I long to do it still.
I want to embrace my last days,
with happy thoughts, of God, family, and friends.
I refuse the darkness of evil dismay,
and embrace the joy of knowing...
that this is not the end, but the beginning.
It starts with now and continues on,
to the place prepared.
I take one last long look into the smooth surface of the mirror.
It can not hold the image of my life in its reflection,
it can only keep the moments...
that I let it have.
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2022